Her Demeanor Shatters Like Glass

, , | Right | June 11, 2021

It’s the first day I’m covering a shift on my own at my first job ever in a bakery. I work at a takeaway stall which is outside and right in front of the main entrance of the bakery. Right next to me are also tables for customers, so I get that a lot of people are a bit confused about whether they have to order their food from me or if there is waitstaff for the tables, which there is.

At my stall, I sell ice cream and sandwiches. It’s a hot summer’s day, so a lot of people want ice cream and there’s a long queue. A couple comes up to me and the woman asks for three scoops of ice cream.

Me: “Sure, would you like it in a cup or in a cone?”

Since I’m takeaway, I only carry paper cups.

Customer: “In a glass.”

Me: *A bit unsure* “So, you mean in a cup?”

Customer: “Yes.”

I then fill the cup with three different flavoured scoops of ice cream and start to hand it over to her. That’s when the screaming starts.

Customer: “WHAT IS THIS?!”

Me: *Startled* “Umm, your ice cream?”

Customer: “NO, WHAT IS THIS?! I ordered ice cream in a glass! I have never been treated like this in a restaurant before. Who gives cups made of cardboard? WHAT IS THIS?!”

Her husband looks quite embarrassed. I realise that she wanted to sit at a table and have an ice cream made by the kitchen.

Me: “I’m very sorry I misunderstood you, but since I’m only takeaway, I can’t give you a glass. Would you like to take this one and still sit at a table or order a new one from the waitstaff?”

Customer: *Still very angry* “I WILL NOT EAT FROM PAPER! THROW THAT AWAY! I WILL ORDER A REAL ICE CREAM AT THE TABLE!”

She then walked off to a nearby table and her husband only had an apologetic look for me before following her. I had to throw away three perfectly fine scoops of ice cream.

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Masked By Corporate Reasoning

, , , , , | Right | June 11, 2021

I live in an area where masks are a touchy topic. The majority of people don’t like them, and we don’t have a mask mandate, but I deliver groceries and most of my customers are elderly, so I wear mine. This is apparently a problematic decision.

Customer #1: “Why are you wearing your mask? Do you think I’m diseased or something?”

For my next delivery, I leave my mask on my chin and decide I’ll pull it up if needed.

Customer #2: *In an ‘Are you stupid?’ tone* “What’s the point in the mask if you’re leaving it down?”

Fair point. I put it on for my next delivery.

Customer #3: “Are you really wearing a mask just so you can hand me my stuff?”

Me: *Pauses* “Well, we don’t have uniforms, so this is the only thing I have with the logo on it. I’m just wearing it so people know I’m with [Delivery Service] and not a stranger on your porch.”

Customer #3: “Oh, you’re right! Thank you!”

I have finally found something that pleases everyone!

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Not Ovary-acting To This One

, , , , | Working | June 11, 2021

I am a female apprentice in a very male-dominated field. None of my coworkers or bosses have ever had an issue with that; in fact, they are all very supportive.

One day, we have an outside company come in to do some work we don’t do, so they come around about once a week. There is a new employee with them. I am tasked with bringing them some things they need.

New Employee: “Uh, what are you doing here?”

Me: “I am doing an apprenticeship.”

New Employee: “Right, but when you’re finished, you’ll work in accounting?”

Me: “Uh, no, I’ll be in the workshop.”

New Employee: “No, really, you should be doing a desk job.”

I think he might be joking, so I laugh, but I realize he’s serious.

Me: “I love my job, so I’m not going anywhere else.”

New Employee: “But it’s not, you know… a job for you.”

I was so flabbergasted that I just walked away, but I vented to my coworkers about it. They all took my side, and I am still astounded by an outside company coming in and thinking they can tell me what job I should be doing.

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Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

, , , , , | Working | June 11, 2021

I drop into a large chain coffee shop. I order a large coffee and something to eat and sit by the window to enjoy a bit of quiet. A couple of women come in, chat to the barista, look around, and motion in my direction. I assume they are picking out a table; instead, they all stand awkwardly together at the counter and the barista comes over.

Barista: “Sorry, but could you swap tables?”

Me: “I’m quite happy here. Why do I need to move?”

Barista: “We have other customers that need that table.”

The table is no bigger than any of the others, nor more accessible. There is one next to me exactly the same, but mine is the only one left by the window.

Me: “No, I don’t think I will… unless there is a good reason for it?”

Her face scrunches up and she marches to the back. She comes back quickly.

Barista: “I’ve spoken to the manager and he says you have to leave.”

Me: “Okay, but I want a refund.”

Barista: “I will put it in a to-go cup.”

Me: “I don’t want it to-go. Besides, I paid extra to sit in, so I want a full refund, please.”

Barista: “I can’t do that.”

Me: “But I’m sure your manager could.”

She went back to the group of women. There were some less than subtle remarks and they sat somewhere else. The manager never appeared. I can only assume that they were friends trying to bully others out of their favourite spot.

I drank my coffee in my own time and eventually left. I didn’t put in a complaint, but the barista wasn’t there a month or so later, so she probably managed to get herself fired all on her own.

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And Thus The Squeegee Man From “RENT” Was Born

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: hayskee | June 11, 2021

I am at the gas station washing my car window. The local station has a uniform — a green-collared shirt with the logo and black pants — neither of which am I wearing.

Lady: *To me* “I’m next!”

I think she is talking about using the brush next, so I smiled.

Me: “Okay!”

I put the brush back in its bucket and start to walk toward the station.

Lady: “Excuse me, I said I’m next!

I turn around and glance at her, think, “Whatever,” and go inside. I pay for my gas and go to the ATM at the back of the store. As I am leaving:

Cashier: “We’ve just had a complaint about you.”

Me: “Yeah?”

Cashier: “That lady said you didn’t wash her windscreen and wants to speak to the manager; she’s coming back tomorrow.”

I just giggled and left. I’ll be going back again tomorrow to see if I can catch her.

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